


Just Gals Being Pals

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biphobia, Bisexuality, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7657822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke knows she's bisexual. She's not sure why her family is so slow to notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Gals Being Pals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bgonemydear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgonemydear/gifts).



> Apparently yesterday was National Girlfriends Day, and my girlfriend pointed out the description of it as a holiday kind of erred on the side of "gals being pals" day. And then wanted fic about someone's family totally failing to get that girlfriend meant GIRLFRIEND, which I felt like I could provide. A day late but, whatever. Isn't every day girlfriends day?

"What's the best way to come out to your family?" Clarke asks.

"Singing telegram," says Miller.

"Ecard," Monty says. "One of the animated ones."

"Probably a skywriter," says Bellamy. "Old-school."

"Old school is telegram," says Monty. 

"No, smoke signals."

"Smoke signals is how you figure out if someone else is queer without getting punched," Miller corrects.

Clarke bites back on her smile; they're not helpful, but she loves them anyway. "Okay, wrong question. How did you guys come out?"

"I didn't," says Bellamy. "My mom died, my sister just figured it out when she saw me making out with a guy. She asked if I was gay now and I said I still liked girls. End of discussion."

"I cried a lot," Monty says. "Zero stars, do not recommend."

Clarke frowns. "You _cried_?"

He shrugs. "I thought they'd be disappointed. And it's still--they've pretty much decided _bisexual_ means I'm going to end up with a girl, so we mostly don't talk about it. But they like Nate, so--it could be worse."

"My dad told me before I could tell him. I was still sneaking around with my high-school boyfriend and he sat me down and told me he heard some rumors," says Miller. "And then he said that I was still his son and he loved me no matter what, and he hoped I knew I could talk to him about this stuff. I might have cried too," he adds. "But in a good way."

"You're not out to your mom?" Monty asks her, cocking his head.

"No. I was going to--I wanted to tell her about Lexa, but then it went wrong, and I didn't want to talk to _anyone_ about Lexa. And then it just--it doesn't feel pressing, I guess? Like, if I'm not dating anyone, I don't need to tell them."

"It's your business," Bellamy says. "You're not obligated to come out to anyone."

"I know. But I want my mom to stop assuming I'm straight and talking about _the man I'm going to marry_."

"Again, bisexual doesn't always fix that one," Monty says. "I have a boyfriend and my parents still talk about the girl I'm going to marry."

"Have they done that in front of you?" Clarke asks Miller, curious, and he grins.

"I told them I could rock a dress."

"Seriously," says Bellamy, because he's the mom friend. "Just do it when it feels right. People are going to be assholes about it no matter what, so--"

"Follow your heart," says Monty.

"I just want to get it over with, I think," Clarke says. "It feels like this thing I'm _not_ telling her, you know?"

"If it'll make you feel better," Bellamy says. "There's no wrong way to come out, Clarke. If it ruins anything, it's not because of how you did it. It's because the person you're coming out to cares more about their feelings than yours."

"You're like a really bitter Hallmark card."

"That's the vibe I go for, yeah." He raises his glass. "Good luck."

*

As it turns out, the problem with coming out is that she _can't_. Not in any way her mother will accept. She really builds it up the first time, stresses and writes a script and rehearses it. She knows Bellamy is right, that in a lot of ways it doesn't matter how she does it, but--this is how she feels better.

"Mom," she says, at dinner the last night of spring break. "I have something to tell you."

"Of course," says Abby. She narrows her eyes. "You aren't changing your major again, are you?"

"No." She takes a deep breath. "I'm bisexual."

"Oh," she says, dismissive. "No, don't worry about that."

"I wasn't worried about it," she says, slow, not sure how to read the reaction. "I'm good. I just wanted to tell you."

"And I appreciate that. But it's common to think that in college. You'll get over it; you don't need to start redefining your life around a--passing phase."

Clarke stares at her. "What?"

"Just see how you feel in a few years," Abby says, and she sounds as if she genuinely thinks she's being supportive. And it's not the worst advice, Clarke supposes. It was what she was doing in high school, waiting to see if how she felt about girls was _real_.

"I know how I feel," she says, and her mother smiles.

"Of course you do. But you might not feel that way forever."

*

Clarke rages about her mother's dismissive attitude to all her friends when she's back on campus, but she moves on after. _She_ knows she's bisexual, and she'll keep saying it for as long as she has to. Her mother will figure it out and accept it eventually. It's stupid and small-minded, but she doesn't expect her mother to have a perfect understanding of sexuality. They'll get there.

Unfortunately, her first serious relationship after college is with a guy, which wouldn't be an issue in a vacuum, but unfortunately Clarke's life isn't in a vacuum. Her mother never comes out and says, _so that bisexuality thing was just a phase_ , but Clarke feels her thinking it all the time.

Sterling says it's just her imagination, and that's probably part of why they break up. It's not impossible to date someone who isn't bi, but it is impossible to date someone who questions Clarke's actual lived experiences.

And then, she runs into Raven Reyes again.

If she'd made a list of people she thought she'd never see again, Raven Reyes might have topped it, assuming she'd thought of Raven at all. Which she probably would have, because she _does_ think of Raven, from time-to-time. She was a fairly major part of Clarke's freshman-year heartbreak, the high-school girlfriend of Clarke's first college boyfriend. Finn Collins had thought he could date Clarke at school and hook up with Raven when he was home, which had blown up in his face when Raven came to visit. He spent the better part of spring semester trying to convince Clarke to take him back, and she spent the entire time pissed off at everyone and everything.

But not actually at Raven. She'd always been weirdly grateful to Raven, not only for revealing Finn for the cheating asshole that he was, but for being the first real girl Clarke had ever _wanted_. She'd been attracted to celebrities before, but in the absent way, the way she assumed was society. Raven Reyes is the girl she uses in her stories about figuring out she was bisexuality; it was like being punched in the face by being into girls, seeing her.

And then she was gone, and Clarke figured that was it. Raven was this bizarre blip in her life, a fairy godmother who taught her she was a queer girl with an asshole for a boyfriend. If she's honest, Clarke thinks she probably owes her.

But she never thought she'd get to pay off the debt.

"Holy shit," she says, stopping short at the sight of Raven at the bar, chatting with Gina.

"Yeah," says Bellamy, appreciative. "My girlfriend is incredibly hot. Thanks for noticing."

"Not her," she says, and elbows him when he raises his eyebrows. "Shut up. Obviously, your girlfriend is hot. Don't brag. She's talking to Finn's ex-girlfriend."

"Huh," he says, taking another look at Raven, contemplative. "The one who got you into girls?"

"Yup."

"I can see why." He claps her shoulder. "Come on, let's say hi."

"There's no way she wants to see me."

"Why not? You didn't know about her, and you guys both dumped the asshole. And it was like--what, eight years ago? Who the fuck cares? Plus, she's talking to Gina, she must be cool." He smirks. "What are you gonna do, bail?"

When he puts it like that, there really is no option. Her choices are to go over and talk to Gina and Raven, or leave, and it's _trivia night_. If she leaves, Cage Wallace's team might beat them, and she refuses to be responsible for that.

"Shit, is she Gina's friend who's subbing in for Jasper?"

"Only one way to find out," says Bellamy, and slings his arm around her shoulders, supportive. "Come on. Maybe you can buy her a drink."

"Here they are!" Gina says, when she spots them. Clarke really does like her a lot--she's sweet and adores Bellamy, and it's basically impossible for Clarke to dislike anyone who adores Bellamy. Plus she can also snark with the best of them and provides free alcohol sometimes. Honestly, Clarke's hoping they get married. "Raven, this is my boyfriend, Bellamy, and--"

"Clarke," says Raven. She's just as gorgeous as Clarke remembers, all sleek lines and confidence. "Right?"

"Yeah. Hi, Raven."

Gina cocks her head, and Bellamy grins. "I think we need drinks," he says, and Raven raises her glass.

"Cheers."

*

It turns out Gina and Raven went to college together, and that Raven just moved to town, which means she joins their group of friends pretty much instantly. And that's cool, of course. She's insanely smart, works for some robotics company on prosthetic legs, even designed her own, which is amazing. Clarke might not have ended up a doctor, but she still knows a lot about it, and it's easy for the two of them to slip into their own world of technology, therapy, advances, and then to just go from there.

Bellamy looks smug a lot of the time when they're talking; Clarke mostly pointedly ignores him. But it's not like she didn't do that already.

The most she's willing to give him in terms of live ammunition is asking Gina about Raven's sexuality, which she's been trying to get out of Raven without actually _asking_. She envies people who are good at gracefully figuring out other people's sexual preferences, because she's absolutely terrible.

Bellamy snickers when she asks, but Gina elbows him and considers. "I'm not really sure, honestly. The breakup with Finn was really hard on her. I remember her talking about him, like--fairy tale stuff. It was so romantic. Childhood friends who stayed together through everything."

"And then I happened," Clarke says. She feels stupid for even thinking about it; she ruined Raven's life.

"Finn happened," Bellamy says, sharp. He was Clarke's RA freshman year, and he still holds a grudge. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's not like _you_ hate _her_."

"I had a lot less invested in Finn."

"Still."

Gina brings them back to the point at hand. "She didn't date much after the accident, and as far as I know she's never dated girls. But she never said she was straight either, so it could go either way. You should just ask her out."

"That wouldn't be awkward," Clarke mutters.

"It doesn't have to be," Bellamy says. "The earlier you do it, the less awkward it is."

"I'm surprised he doesn't have a chart about what exact point in the relationship you should ask someone out," Gina says, fond.

"It would be helpful! You have to get to know them enough that you're sure you want to date, but not so long that it's weird you didn't say something earlier. You're still in the good range, Clarke. Don't blow it."

"Is it weird that that makes me feel better?" she asks, and he grins.

"I'm awesome at dating."

"Absolutely not," says Gina. "But I do think you should ask her. I think she might say yes."

Clarke doesn't disagree with them--she should just ask, and now is the time--but she's never been good at this step in relationships. Going from wanting someone to getting them still feels like a nebulous thing, and even though she's completed the process several times, she still doesn't feel like she knows how it works.

In the end, she has her mother to thank for helping her out. Clarke had, apparently, upset her grandfather by telling him she might have a boyfriend _or_ a girlfriend the last time they spoke on the phone, and Abby called to tell her she shouldn't confuse the man with things that didn't matter.

"That's what she said!" she says, gesturing with her beer. "That it _didn't matter_."

"Yeah, that sucks," says Raven. "One advantage of never talking to your family: no awkward conversations."

Clarke thinks her voice is pretty even when she asks, "Is that an awkward conversation you'd be having?"

"Not right now. Single." She shrugs in a way that seems deliberate to Clarke. "It's not like guys have done me much good. Maybe girls would be better."

"I've had shitty experiences with both," she says, because she's heard too many straight girls joke about how they should just go gay. It doesn't seem like Raven would, but--it happens. "I don't think girls are the answer."

Raven takes a sip of her drink, thoughtful. They're the only ones in the booth, and it feels private even if it's not. "So, Finn wanted to have a threesome. That was one of his, like--you know, he'd talk about it to get himself going. And I didn't really care until he started talking about what I'd do to the girl. And I could get into that."

Clarke's mouth is dry. "Oh."

"I don't really know what you call that, sexuality-wise. But I feel like I could have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, I think you could," she manages.

"You think that's what he was trying to do?" Raven asks. "Figure out how to turn two girlfriends into a threesome?"

"Worst plan ever," Clarke says. "I'd take you over him any day."

"Ditto," says Raven, and that's enough.

"I asked Gina if you were into girls," she says. Cool. Casual.

"What did she say?"

"She told me to ask you. I was working on it."

"Guess I have to do everything myself," Raven says, and kisses her before she can respond.

Raven is confidence hiding nerves, firm and demanding with her mouth like she's hoping Clarke won't notice her hand is shaking. So Clarke kisses back, tugs her closer, and it's been too long since she had this, a girl, a girl she _liked_ , someone warm and willing against her mouth.

"Yeah," she breathes, when they pull apart. "You could have a girlfriend."

"Cool," says Raven. "I can work with that."

*

Having a girlfriend is great. It's not _better_ than having a boyfriend, except that she likes Raven better than she's liked any of the guys she's dated recently. And they're _friends_ , which is nice. She's had too many relationships that started with romance and ended when she realized she didn't really _like_ the person she was dating.

She really likes Raven, and it's a little bit--not _bad_ , really. Liking her girlfriend is obviously great.

It's just that apparently some of that affection comes across as platonic. Or possibly everyone's just really, really bad at sexuality.

At first, it's at work. Clarke is one of those people who tends to mention her girlfriend casually, not quite name-dropping, just mentioning things they've done together or opinions Raven has. And no one ever gives her shit for it, which she assumes is a sign that her coworkers are cool and laid back.

But then Martha says, "Oh, my nephew is in town, I thought you might want to have dinner with him."

Clarke blinks. "Your nephew?"

"He's moving to town for grad school in the fall. Twenty-seven, studying economics. He's a very nice boy. He and his girlfriend broke up--"

It takes her a minute, and then she says, "I have a girlfriend."

"A what?"

"A girlfriend. A girl I'm dating."

" _Oh_ ," says Martha, eyes going huge. "I thought you meant--well, we all have girlfriends, don't we?"

Clarke doesn't know how to respond to that statement without punching something--either Martha or a wall, she's not picky--so she ust smiles and says, "Maybe, but I'm having sex with mine."

She goes to Raven's apartment after work, kisses her soundly, and says, "Do your coworkers know we're dating?"

"No," she says. "I mean, I haven't really told them yet. We don't talk about personal lives much. Why, is that a problem?"

"Not if it hasn't come up."

"Okay, so what _is_ bothering you?"

"My coworker Martha thought my girlfriend was just, you know--platonic. Like that's what I call my friends who are girls. She was trying to set me up with her nephew."

Raven snorts. "Wow. Was he hot?"

"I told her I had a girlfriend I'm fucking and that kind of ended the conversation."

"Of course you did." She kisses Clarke again. "You want me to tell my coworkers? See if they get that we're dating? It could be like a game."

Clarke has to smile. "How long it takes people to figure out we're dating?"

"For science," Raven says.

"You're the expert," she says, and tugs her toward the couch. "If it's for science."

*

With science in mind, actually _is_ pretty fun. To start it off, Clarke posts a picture of her, Raven, and Bellamy on Facebook. She's got her arms around Raven and Raven is kissing her cheek, and Bellamy is on his phone, looking faintly amused at their antics. It's a great picture.

Clarke's aunt comments, _What a cutie! Your boyfriend? ;)_ and Clarke, Raven, and Bellamy all get a free shot from Gina that night.

"I fucking told you," says Raven, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.

"I fucking believed you. I'm just irresistible. My milkshake brings everyone to the yard."

"What's it like being old and out of touch and using only the most outdated memes?"

"What's the one with the frog on the unicycle? I'm all over that one. What up?"

"You should try dating girls, Gina. You could definitely do better."

Clarke and Gina exchange a smile as Raven and Bellamy continue to bicker, and Gina gives her another free drink for their ridiculous significant others.

After, she takes a selfie of her and Raven, captions it, _Love my girl!_ , and one of Raven's friends comments, _Glad you're making friends up north, Reyes!_

At least when they're both in on it together, it's funny instead of infuriating. And it's not like no one realizing they're dating means they aren't. They aren't defined by people's perception of their relationship. They still kiss and have sex and have all their relationship milestones. Clarke gets a cat and Raven consults and helps out; Raven's lease ends and Clarke asks her to move in.

Raven comes back for Christmas and Clarke's mother is--polite. She at least doesn't try to pretend that Raven isn't Clarke's girlfriend, even if she does think it's best to not tell the rest of the family. But in a pretty nice way. Like she wants to prep them to make sure they aren't going to be assholes.

Clarke declines to mention that all of her cousins have figured it out from their very non-subtle Facebook posts. That'll be a fun surprise for their next family gathering.

"You seem happy," Abby says, before they leave.

"That's how good relationships work."

Her mother smiles. "I meant it in a good way. I'm happy for you."

She relaxes, returns the smile. Her mother means well. "Yeah. I am too." And then, because she's being nice, "We've been posting really unsubtle pictures on Facebook, waiting for the family to figure it out. Nothing so far. Aunt Janet thinks she's a lovely young woman and hopes I find a boyfriend soon."

Abby snorts. "I'll ease them into it."

Clarke doesn't know what that process looks like, exactly, but her pictures of her and Raven snuggling on Facebook continue to get comments like, _The boys better watch out for you two_ , so it can't be going quickly.

"Compulsory heterosexuality is a hell of a drug," Raven says, examining the ring on her finger. Clarke knows how to treat a girl right, if she does say so herself.

"This one has to do it, right?" Clarke asks. She's had her relationship status blank since college, but upgrading to _engaged_ sounds pretty cool.

"I bet if you don't tag me and just say engaged with a bunch of pictures of us, at least one of your relatives will ask you who the lucky guy is," Raven says. "I will bet you anything."

"I guess we might as well see," says Clarke, biting back on her smile. "You know. For science."

"I'm just saying," Raven says. She props her chin on Clarke's shoulder. "They'll get it at the wedding."

Clarke laughs. " _It's so nice you guys are going to be friends forever, Clarke! I hope you find some boys who deserve you_."

" _I wonder why she's kissing the maid of honor. Kids today!_ "

"Exactly." She leans back against Raven. "I'm never going to get them to understand bisexuality, am I? The best I'll get is, like--they think I'm a lesbian."

"Nah," says Raven. "We'll get there." She pecks Clarke's cheek. "Don't worry, babe. We've got years to educate your relatives about sexuality." She pauses. "Or just troll them. I'm cool either way."

Clarke looks down at the ring on her own finger, the one that already matches Raven's. The actual wedding rings will be nice, but--this is already great. And she's pretty sure the best is yet to come.

"Yeah, that sounds great," she says. "Let's do it."


End file.
